Murderface's New Girlfriend
by madwriter223
Summary: Skwisgaar, why are you hiding under my desk?" Humor, slight romanse, beware of Susan. And I mean BEWARE. Oh, and slight slash at the end, of the Nathan/Charles variety.


**Murderface's New Girlfriend**

"Skwisgaar?"

"Ya?"

"Is there a reason you're hiding under my desk?"

"Ya, is very good reasons."

"...well?"

A shudder and mumbling in Swedish were his answer.

Charles sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment, he composed himself enough to be firm about the issue. "Skwisgaar. Get out from under there."

"Nos."

"Then at least attempt to tell me 'why' in English."

A long, obviously terror filled pause. "Murderface... Gots a lady fr'end."

A blink. "You're hiding from William's new girlfriend because... you don't want to be tempted to steal her?"

"NO!"

"Then... why?"

"Is... icky."

A long, exasperated pause. "Skwisgaar, I am this close to cracking a joke about cooties."

"Wha's cooties?"

"Nevermind." The CFO walked over to his desk, reaching underneath it. "Come along now. We'll go, and you'll explain to me why she is 'icky'."

"...yous not be leavings me alones dere?"

He really should be paid more for this. "I promise. And while we're there, you'll show me what exactly it was that you took or drank, yes?"

"Okies."

"Alright then."

*~*

"Dey in dere." Skwisgaar muttered, his long frame cowering behind his manager.

"Alright then." Charles opened the door, and walked in, spotting the couple sitting on the couch almost immediately.

"Hey, robot! You met my new girlfriend?"

"Hello."

"Her name'sh Shushan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Would you two excuse me for a moment?" And without waiting for an answer, the CFO turned and marched right back out. As soon as the door closed behind him, he gave into the urge to have a nice, long shudder.

Dear God, that woman should be locked in a windowless room and the key buried in the middle of the North Pole.

"Sees? Is icky."

"Indeed she is." He could clearly see how even Skwisgaar's low standards could be offended enough to go hide. He'd seen three-day-old corpses that look better. "However, William obviously likes her, and it is rare that he brings, as you called her, a lady friend back home."

"Sos?"

"So, we are going to go in there, and be nice to them."

Swedish protests.

"No, Skwisgaar. We are going to go in there, and be supportive. William is your friend, and you should behave like one."

"...a fr'end?"

"Yes. That includes no running away and hiding, and no telling (a shudder) Susan she is 'icky'."

"...okies..."

"Alright then." With a nod, and a mental gathering of courage, the two walked into the rec room.

"Hey, dildosh! Where ya two went to?"

"All is well, I assure you." Charles was silently proud of the blond for not hiding behind him. "Skwisgaar had a little case of... performance anxiety before the next tour."

"Oh." Susan seemed worried, shifting slightly. "Are you alright?"

"...I's fine." A subdued tone.

"Well, that's good to hear. William was just telling me that you're the fastest guitarist ever. It must be a lot of pressure on you."

"...is fine."

"Well, that's good to hear." She smiled (oh the horror), obviously pleased with herself of being supportive of her other half's friends. Such a good girlfriend she was, ye~s...

Murderface nearly melted. "Aww, aren't you jusht the beshtesht thing that ever happened to me."

"You're just saying that."Accompanied by suggestive eyebrow dance.

"And now I'll say this." And with that, the bassist leaned closer to give his new girlfriend a long, deep kiss.

Both Charles and Skwisgaar paled at the sight. The blond's hand flew up to cover his mouth, then the guitarist turned and fled from the room, probably to be violently ill.

The CFO however, was rooted to the spot, pretty much like someone seeing a mutilated corpse for the first time, and being unable to look away from the gross ugliness of the sight.

His own stomach twisted in protest to what the eyes were witnessing.

When Murderface seemingly forgot they had an audience, and started unbuttoning his lady's blouse (the lady's hands being busy with pulling at his fly), Charles' survival instincts kicked in.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Susan." He slowly inched back towards the door. "I think you two should spend some more time together. I'll inform the boys and the Klokateers you are not to be disturbed."

While Susan's flushed face twisted into a seductive leer as she looked up at the bassist, Murderface beamed at his manager.

"Thanksh, robot. You're a bud."

"Yes. Yes, I am... Well, goodbye, and I hope your stay here will be...pleasurable." With that said, he turned and hightailed it out of there, the images of what he had seen burning against his corneas.

*~*

Nathan glanced up as the door to the recording room opened, and the form of his manager walked in.

"Hey Charles... what's the, uh, mirror for?"

Wordlessly, the smaller man set the large object against the wall, adjusting it so that Nathan's form was fully reflected in it, then nodded his approval. Then he walked up to the front man, grabbed his long hair, and hauled their faces close for a deep kiss.

Nathan grunted in surprise, but nonetheless participated, slipping his tongue past supple lips, and tasting the insides. He frowned slightly when he felt the distinctive flavor of whiskey coloring the earthy taste that was Charlie. It was only three in the afternoon, why would he be drinking?

Then Charles nibbled on his lower lip, and the stray thought dissipated as all concentration fixed on the other. Thanks to that, he missed the eyes opening into slits, brown orbs fixing on their shared reflection.

After long moments, the CFO broke the kiss, his breathing rugged, face flushed. He run his hands over his hair, smoothing it, then smiled softly at the other. "Thank you for that."

Nathan blinked. "Welcome." He watched as Charles gathered the large mirror under his arm, and move to the door. "Umm..."

The other man paused, turning to look at him. "Yes?"

"What was that for?"

"Just getting rid of an unwanted image." A secretive smirk, then Charles walked outside. "Work hard on that new album."

Nathan stared at the now closed door, then shrugged, turning back to his notes.


End file.
